Page 69 of Fall Into You

“I love you, and I know things have been crazy with us, but I think it’s just the universe’s way of sayingscrew it. I can’t wait to have this baby with you. I can’t wait to move in with you. And…” He walks to the table by the front door, opens the drawer, and pulls out a black velvet box.

“Ohmigod.” My hands fly to my mouth.

“And if you’ll have me…” He swallows hard as he kneels in front of me. “I can’t wait to marry you and spend the rest of our lives together.” He pulls the lid of the box open and reveals a simple oval-cut solitaire on a platinum band. It’s beautiful and elegant and just right. Although, he could have given me a rock and some duct tape, and I still would have loved it—even if it had been heart-shaped.

“When did you have time to buy a ring?” I ask.

He furrows his brows. “I’ve had this for some time. I, uh…bought it at the same time I got the necklace,” he admits, face heating all the way to his ears.

Excuse me?

“What?” I ask. “That was, like, over a month ago! And you bought it from your mom? Did she know how long we had been together for? Oh my God, I can’t believe it. She must think we’re crazy—unless she thought it was romantic. Oh, wow, I can’t wait to meet her and—”

“Hey, Liza.” He stops me before I go on a bigger tangent, brows furrowed. “Do you think you could maybe answer my question real quick?” he asks, anxiety oozing from every inch of his body, still down on one knee. “You can go back to freaking out after.” He grins, but I can tell he’s nervous, like he doesn’t actually think I’m gonna say yes.

I roll my eyes at him and laugh, throwing myself into his arms. “Of course I’ll marry you, you loon! How could I not?”

He wraps his arms around me, kissing me on the neck, both of us kneeling on the floor. “I’m so happy right now,” he laughs in my ear. “I can’t believe this.”

“But wait.” I push off him gently. “We don’t need to do this just because we’re pregnant, Matt.” A little thrill courses through my body again at the thought.We’re pregnant. “I don’tneedto be married. I don’t want you to feel like I’m forcing you into this whole thing.”

He stares at me in confusion. “Did you not just hear me tell you that I’ve had this in my drawer for about a month? You’re not forcing my hand at all. If anything, this baby means I get to have you sooner than what is socially acceptable.” He grins. “I want this. I want you. I’ve wanted you since the second I saw you splattered in vomit.” I snort through tears. “I love you, Liza.”

“COVIDHAS REALLY PUTa damper on events like this, hasn’t it?” Catterina says next to me. “I hate that we can’t actually be there with her when it happens, that we have to wait for her to come home.” I smile sympathetically at her.

Liza’s whole family, Barbara, and I are sitting in our living room while we watch Columbia’s post-grad ceremony from our apartment. The twins look bored out of their minds, fighting over who gets to play with the iPad first. It’s definitely a little cramped in here, but I don’t mind. I love seeing how loved and supported Liza is, how supportedweare as a family. It’s something I haven’t had since before my dad died and never thought I would ever get back.

It’s strange to think that a year ago today I was almost done with my fellowship, looking at new job opportunities and thinking about moving to New York. Now, I have a beautiful and smart fiancée, a baby on the way, and have been brought into a loving and gregarious Italian family that I’ll soon get to officially be a part of. My life has definitely changed for the better.

Even my mother, who I had barely had a relationship with for well over a decade, has been making more of an effort to be a part of my life. Since finding out about the baby and the engagement, she’s come to visit at least once a month, wanting to get to know me better, wanting to be part of my kid’s life.

It’s unbelievable what grandkids do to a family, how they bring them together.

“I know,” I say, exhaling deeply, impatiently waiting for Liza’s name to pop up on the live-stream of her graduation. They wouldn’t allow non-students at the actual ceremony because of health regulations, so this is the only way we could see her graduate.

She’s eight months pregnant, and it’s incredibly hot outside under the early-June sun, and you could say that I’m a bit worried about her—I always am these days. I don’t want her to pass out from the heat or get tired from having to stand too long on her feet. Plus, I’m terrified of Liza getting sick from being in such a large crowd of grads. She’s been vaccinated, but what if she gets the virus anyway? What if the vaccine doesn’t protect her?

This whole parenting-and-being-in-love-with-someone-unconditionally thing is exhausting sometimes. It’s like my brain is now filled with these worst-case scenarios, where my worst fear is losing one of them—or worse, both.

Is this normal? Or is this new-parent jitters? Am I going to live with this anxiety for the rest of my life, or will I eventually get used to it?

Liza and I had a huge argument last week about her attending this ceremony, but ultimately, she won and was right to stick up for herself. She’s worked so hard, managed to complete her schoolwork, thesis,andrequired internship all while battling morning sickness that has lasted throughout her entire pregnancy. She deserves to be able to celebrate this moment with her friends, to bask in the achievement—even if it turns me into a nervous wreck, even if it’s a little hard for me to let go. Plus, it’s probably one of the last things she’ll do just for herself before the baby comes and we get married, which we plan to do in October.

People often ask us why we want to marryafterthe birth of our child, but the truth is, once we knew we were pregnant and decided to get married, we thought it would be so great to have our baby boy or girl present with us. The reality is that Liza and I were always going to get married, start a family, and share a life together—it just probably wouldn’t have happened as quickly as it’s happening now without the baby. We want to honor him or her by having them there with us, thanking them for bringing us together even quicker than anticipated—we really don’t mind.

Plus, she really wants to get married in the place where we first actually fell for each other, and Tom’s Pumpkin Patch looks better in the fall (my future wife’s favorite season). There are plans for there to bea lotof pumpkins in our wedding pictures, obviously. Maybe even a picture with the famous giant turkey, but I know she’s not fond ofthatidea.

“Elisabetta Angela Castelli, Graduate School of Psychology,” the school provost announces. Vinny, Danielle, Catterina, Barbara, and I all cheer for her as if she can hear us all the way from campus. We watch her waddle all the way to the center of the stage to get her diploma and smile broadly as she takes it from the dean and then, just as quickly, disappears from the screen.

I’m so fucking proud of her.

“I gotta pee again,” my future sister-in-law says with a frustrated groan. “This kid is more of an annoyance on my bladder than the twins were. It sure loves doing jumping jacks.”

Danielle being pregnant at the same time as Liza has been an incredible experience. The two girls were already close, but this has definitely brought them much closer together. I know Barbara has been getting some serious FOMO about the whole situation, but she’s been really supportive, and I know she’s going to be the best godmother to our little monster.

With Babs, I’m confident that my kids will all grow up with a fun, loving, kooky aunt. I know that they’ll be surrounded by love and affection and want for nothing in terms of emotional support. I know that they will never, ever feel abandoned by the members of their family. Will we be overbearing? Meddling? Absolutely. But better that than nothing at all.

“Did you get everything for dinner tonight? We should probably start prepping so that it’s ready by the time Liza gets back,” Vinny says nervously.

Tonight, he and I plan to cook dinner for the girls for a change—show them how much we appreciate everything they do. We’re gonna try to make a summer caprese pasta salad, which Catterina says is so simple to do that even Danielle can make it (her words, not mine), and I’m looking forward to doing it here, in our home.

Catterina snorts and says, “Vinny, this dish only takes about fifteen minutes to make. Do not exaggerate.” She rolls her eyes at him, and he blushes. I laugh and refill her wine glass. Catterina pats my hand in appreciation, thanking me with a smile. I owe a lot to this woman for everything that she’s done for me, and I’m not just referring to the amazing cooking lessons she’s given both me and Liza, but the maternal affection she’s shown me and how she brought me into the fold.

I’m so happy to have her and everyone else join me in celebrating my future wife in our apartment. I’ve owned it for almost a year now, but it wasn’t until Liza moved in that it started to feel like my place. She’s turned my generic and sterile apartment—and life, to be honest—into a warm and inviting home. She’s filled it with quirky touches and decorations, including her paint-by-numbers paintings, her bright and vibrant throw pillows, her laughter, the scent of Italian herbs coming from the kitchen at dinnertime, and the continued love and support she shows me every day.

I send her a selfie of me and her family in the background and a text:

Matt: I love you so much, Liza. I’m so proud of you.